


Changing Clothes

by CheerfullyCynical



Series: Communication [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: And into a corset, I just love the Doctor in a dress, No Sex, Other, Period clothing, The Master helps the Doctor into a dress, and a lot of kissing and sensual touching, and so does the Master, but tension, they do not make it outside the TARDIS by the time their done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26942077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheerfullyCynical/pseuds/CheerfullyCynical
Summary: The Master helps the Doctor into a Victoria Era dress.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & The Master (Dhawan), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: Communication [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961749
Comments: 15
Kudos: 61





	Changing Clothes

She did not know what she was looking at.

The Doctor stared at the various amounts of clothing in front of her, all of them rather plain looking, and felt just a tiny bit overwhelmed by the sheer volume the TARDIS provided her. Some of them were certainly things that she would choose – a warm blue suit with a rainbow bow tie attached – while others were meant to blend into the time period.

…Which was Victorian London…

And with a plan that involved looking “inconspicuous”.

 _Fine,_ maybe she was choosing “blending in” as the plan because the Master had suggested it. And – _and_ the fam seemed to be okay with it, which meant that it must have been some-what of a good idea. It just wasn’t something she would have gone with… Ever. If _she_ was going to pick the plan, it would have been easy to question some of the humans there - draw out the ‘alien’ by causing a stir, then chasing after the culprit, as always.

But _noooo._ Graham had been tired of running, Yaz was excited to have time to explore London, and Ryan went along with whatever those two agreed with.

Her hands went to a light blue dress… Thing. It was nice enough, she supposed, something that at least looked a little less complicated than the thing that had a metal death trap attached to the bottom of it. She also liked that the neckline was modest, something just below her collarbones. She hated the sleeves though – all stupid and itchy looking puff with see-through fabric of some kind.

“That’s nice.”

She spun around, squeaking, her hands flinging away from the dress before she could get caught. Luckily (or unluckily) it was the Master that stared at her, an eyebrow raised, and she allowed herself to let out a breathy chuckle.

“You’ve always been so quiet,” She told him, putting her hands awkwardly behind her back. Then, a thought came, “How long were you there for?”

“You made this absolutely outrageous face at the green dress over there,” He commented, smiling as he teased her, “Thought you were going to kneel over.”

She felt a (now) familiar blush heat up her face. _Rassilon._ “Well, it was ugly!” She tried, “I mean, look at all that lace. No one needs that much lace. Far too delicate and-and _white_. Boring! Totally not me.”

“I would argue with you,” He replied, “But I think I would be wasting my breath. Come on, then,” He gestured to the blue dress she had been vaguely considering, “take too long and your pets will start to worry.”

“ _Friends,”_ She reminded him, going stern, “Come on, you admitted you liked Graham! Not fair of you to-”

“Friends,” He amended, waving her off, “Fine. Whatever you want to call those humans. Just get dressed.”

She looked at him closely as he began to turn away. He looked rather good in his attire, perfectly fashionable and put together. _Handsome_ her mind supplied, and she wasn’t going to argue about it. It seemed this version of him was capable of pulling off any outfit he chose.

She was jealous of that.

With a sigh, she reached for the dress again, roughly pulling it off the hanger. Deciding she’d rather change in her bedroom, she caught up with the Master, who held the door open to her as she tried her best not to let the dress drag across the floor.

“Where’s the rest of it?” He asked her, stopping her at the door.

She looked down at the dress, taking note of two sleeves and fabric that would certainly cover her legs. “Rest?”

He rolled his eyes, “The corset, for one. the chemise? Gloves? Bodice?”

She knew that she was looking at him like he was an entirely new being, but she couldn’t help it. Whatever had come out of his mouth, besides the corset part, was in a language she did not know. 

She felt out of place under his exasperated stare. Why didn’t she just say no to him and his stupid plan? They could have been on their way by now. She wouldn’t have been embarrassed. The Master wouldn’t be frustrated with her.

He sighed, but it wasn’t heartfelt. Instead, he closed the door, making sure to lock it as he went. She tilted her head at him, confused, but he only gestured for her to follow him back to the correct closet space. “Don’t want any humans to interrupt.” He muttered, and she supposed that was fair.

Gallifreyans were big on modesty, and so were humans. It’d be disastrous for one of them to walk in on her changing. The Doctor and the Master, of course, had never cared about such a trivial thing. After all, they’ve been in one or two situations that required a quick change.

“Honestly, Doctor,” He said, gathering various… Things, “You’ve been a woman for a couple years now. You should know some of this.”

“No idea where to start,” She admitted, putting the dress on one of the containers labeled “disgusting green boots.” That was not her handwriting, but she knew she would agree with the sentiment if she looked inside. “I mean, why would women need eight different layers of things. Seems… Excessive.”

“ _Expressive,”_ He corrected, coming back towards her, laying out the various items in an order that made no sense. The corset wasn’t first? “The humans like to show of their wealth at all times, especially where we’re going.”

She made a noise of disagreement and was about to argue with him, but it was then that he turned fully towards her, motioning for her to stand up. He looked almost… Excited? No, that wasn’t the right word. Nothing was, really, but his mood had improved over this… Project.

Reluctantly, feeling silly, she stood, letting him hand her a plain looking off-white dress. She probably should ask him why she needed it, but she felt like it would be a silly question under his stare.

She placed it on the chair, then began undoing her suspenders. “Turn around!” She said, realizing that he didn’t bother to do so just as she was about to take off her trousers.

“But we’ve seen each other-”

“Nope!” She argued, “Not in these regenerations.”

She was a hypocrite. After all, she was fine with the Master locking the door. But it was something else to have him looking right at her as she changed. And… Well, it was hard to trust him after everything, even if they were both working past all of their hurts.

“Ridiculous.” He muttered, but eventually turned fully around, waiting for her. She changed quickly, not wanting to test his patience, and gave him a whispered thank you as he did so. He had the right to be annoyed with her – this was a stupid thing to get caught up over.

The material was, at least, flowy. It did nothing to her form, but she figured that the actual dress was what gave her shape. “Right.” She said, looking the mirror. _Ew._ Not exactly a good look.

He turned around, smirking at her as she pulled at the fabric, _really,_ not liking it. He then laughed. For a moment, she felt as if her hearts had fled her chest. Was he planning on making fun of her? 

“Your bra, love,” He said, “You can’t leave it on.”

She blushed, _again_. _And_ felt stupid at her unnecessary fears. “Ah. Yes, makes sense. Just… One second…Learned this one the first time the fam took me shopping.” She used the trick Yaz showed her – unclipping the bra from the back and sliding her arms out – and the Master let out another strangled chuckle at her struggled. In retaliation, the Doctor threw the plain black material at him, smiling as he smacked it to the side.

“You’re a child.” He commented, but there was a fondness she missed in his eyes. He moved forward, grabbing at a white, embroidered corset. He undid the laces with skillful hands, fast and efficient, and a vision of Missy came to mind. Of course he would be good at lacing and unlacing a corset after all the years of wearing one.

Missy had always looked good. Hopefully, the Doctor would too.

He moved towards her – slowly, carefully. “Turn around.” He said, perhaps a bit too demanding to be decent, but the Doctor didn’t care. Breath caught in her lungs, she slowly did so, listening to his footsteps with careful ears.

Within a moment too quick to catch, he was leaning against her, puffs of air tickling her neck. He was warm against her back, comforting, and the Doctor was forced to close her eyes at the contact, pushing against him just enough for him to feel it. He shivered against her but didn’t stop doing whatever his end goal was.

The Master was gentle as he placed the corset around her middle, letting her attach the pins in the front. She adjusted it against her body as she figured out the best spot that _wasn’t_ already crushing her sternum. The tension only grew as he hummed in approval, hands dancing across her hips, right below the end of the corset.

His touch were like sparks of lightning, even through the fabric. She felt electrified.

“1811,” He muttered, “Tight corset, I’m afraid.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” She asked him, regretful that he had moved away from her. Luckily, his hands returned a moment later, gliding across her back as he grabbed at the dangling ribbons. She was suddenly very glad that he wouldn’t be able to see her face.

He pulled at them, one by one, fingertips touching her at every chance. It took her stubbornness not to react each time, but even she was weak. She found herself taking small steps backwards, nearly into him. He chuckled against her, as he continued his work, chest rumbling.

“No patience.” He whispered in her ear, just as he tied it off with a small bow. She had a full body shiver.

Without hesitation, she turned around, wanting to see his face.

_Oh._

There was a distinct, hungry, look in his eyes. She smirked at him, far too cocky, and dared to put a hand on his chest, fixing the near perfect collar of his jacket. His eyes closed as her hand lingered just a second too long on the side of his neck – skin on skin contact she so desperately craved.

“Out of place,” She said to him anyway, voice soft in the quiet TARDIS, “Can’t have you not looking your best.”

“No,” He replied, “Can’t have that.”

She loved what she was doing to him. She hated that if she continued this, her fam would get worried and most certainly knock at the wrong time. She wasn’t ready to have that conversation with them yet. The Doctor wasn’t ready to _be_ with him yet.

“Come on, then,” She said, patting him just once, “What’s next?”

“Undoing the laces.”

She laughed at that, loudly. He looked surprised at his own words, but there wasn’t any shame present. Instead, he wound his arms around her waist, hands pulling at the hard work he had just accomplished. In retaliation, the Doctor did a full body wiggle in his grasp, and she watched as the Master gave up the chase.

He lingered one last time, arms winding around her to bring her into a hug – a new middle ground for them after their last conversation. In another new tradition, she moved her arms up to play with the hair on the back of his neck, making him moan lowly.

It was her that forced them to pull apart after a minute or so, yanking the next piece of clothing from his hands. She threw it over herself, only now realizing that bending over now was _slightly_ harder than before. She _really_ didn’t like that. At least the corset wasn’t as constricting as she thought it was going to be.

The Master, thankfully, respected that she wasn’t ready for anything more. His stance changed, and soon enough he too fell back into their old ways, teasing each other as they both figured out what would look best on her.

When the Master offered to do her hair, she felt like she could melt into the TARDIS floor. She was barely able to nod her consent. He grabbed a hairbrush from… Somewhere and asked her to sit on the only chair in the room.

She did so with a blush, feeling some-what awful that she had nothing to offer him. Her negative thoughts were forgotten, however, when the hairbrush switch to his hands – parting her hair in sections as he carefully constructed braids.

The constant gentle pull and tug on her scalp was relaxing, and even more so when he would move her head from side to side, carefully guiding her by softly pushing against her chin. She could have fallen asleep right there and then.

And then, just when she thought she might, he was done.

The final picture was… Nice.

She smiled at herself as she moved around in the dress. She was surprised, very surprised, that running in it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as she thought. Oh, and the leg room! To be able to feel a slight breeze on her ankles if she lifted up the dress? That was appreciated.

And, honestly, it did look good. She found herself putting her hands on her waist, now, very tiny waist, fixing the blue ribbon there. Her collarbones, bare for the world to see, gave her the very _female_ picture that she was scared of, but, again to her shock, she actually liked it.

The puffy arms were still silly, but at least they were tight at the wrists. The boots, even, only had a small heel, and she really enjoyed being the Master’s height once again.

“Stunning,” He said, and by the look in his eyes she knew he wasn’t lying. “Radiant.”

She looked away from the mirror, instead admiring him. It had been so long since she heard a compliment from him – one that wasn’t filled with underlying tones of hatred. If she stared hard enough, she could see the eyes of her childhood hero.

She felt warm – the type of warm that was indescribable.

Breaking her own rules, she came up in front of him, looping her arms around his neck. “Kissing?” She asked, because it only seemed right, “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” He begged.

That was all it took for them to melt into each other. She didn’t know who demanded more out of the other, but both of them gripped everything they could – hands, waists, shoulders. The Master even dared to move his lips along her face, kissing the underside of her jaw. She hummed against him as he did so, nearly quivering as his lips found her neck.

It had always been a weak spot of hers, no matter the regeneration. Worse yet, when he moved away from her neck, he instead went to one of her collarbones, nipping at the delicate bone with sharp teeth.

She lost her sense of time for a moment there. In retaliation, she pulled on the Master’s hair, making him come up to her level again. Ever so carefully, she drew him back into his kiss. He went with it for a a while, enjoying it, and then the Doctor bit into his bottom lip, rolling it between her teeth.

Without realizing it, she had pushed him into the wall behind him, very nearly forgetting that she didn’t think she was ready for the next step, but it was him that slowed the pace.

“We have all the time in the universe,” he said, looking her in the eyes, “And I won’t have our first time be in your TARDIS closet. Honestly, love, how did you not throw this ugly outfit away?”

She chuckled, not daring to look at what he was talking about. It was no doubt one of his other regenerations outfits and she could only hope it wasn’t the one that kept celery there.

The Master helped her with her wrinkled clothes, moving her arms across her arms, and the Doctor did the same for him. They forced each other to back away, both smirking sadly, wanting each other something fierce, but knowing their limits.

“After.” She said, not a question and not a statement – a demand.

He hesitated, but smirked, “Oh, darling,” He said, voice like fire and ice, “What a temptress my wife is.”

She swallowed.

After, to a time traveler, did not make much sense. Instead, the after found its way into their present, while the future found its way into the _very_ late future.

It didn’t matter – every moment of it was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> DID Y'ALL SEE THE DOCTOR WHO PIC OF JODIE??? I'M LOSING MY MIND? Also hella cool that a lot of my fics ARE of the Doctor kind of losing her mind in a cell, and canon appears to be doing that SO... 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this! I read a couple of these fics and I absolutely adore them. There's just something about the intimacy that's very sexy, I just don't know. 
> 
> As always, you can find me at cheerfullycynicalfandom.tumblr.com <3


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